


Atom Bomb Babies

by Guard1ans, PhenomJak



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Dogmeat is a GOOD BOY, F/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-06-22 01:33:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15570819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Guard1ans/pseuds/Guard1ans, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhenomJak/pseuds/PhenomJak
Summary: Instead of Nate, Nora, and Shaun, a pair of freshmen college students snapped up the last home in the new suburb of Scantuary Hills, planning to drive to CIT and avoid the chaos of Boston big city life.Then the bombs drop and the great war began and ended.Instead of shooting a father and taking a baby, the Institute took instead an  18 year old with powers that even they didn't understand, leaving behind a determined woman to find her best friend and a now fragile young man to find her and confess all that he's been holding back since they were teens.Can they survive when the world barely did?





	1. Looking For Power Armor

The things he has to do for caps these days.

Detective Nick Valentine sighed and discarded his cigarette, pipe pistol at his side.

The illustrious mayor of the Great Green Jewel of the Commonwealth called him up a few days ago to his office and made a proposition that frankly the synth detective wanted to refuse,

But couldn’t due to certain circumstances.

“Valentine....it’s only because of my good favor that you’re...well, not run out of town due to your appearance. It’s not like I’m asking much. I mean how hard is it to find a madman in power armor? You would be doing the city a favor!”

 

Clearly McDonough did not realize the vastness of the Commonwealth.

His, for lack of a better term, target was a person, a man people think though it’s hard to tell, in a set of custom painted T-51 power armor. The mayor had claimed that this monster had fired and killed DCS and the synth must find him immediately to face justice.

Or lose his detective agency.

He couldn’t leave Ellie all by herself like that, without a job, even if this sounded like a wild goose chase.

Besides, a story like that, Publick Occurrences would’ve found out and told the entire city about what happened. Keeping Piper Wright from printing a story like that would be tandem amount to suicide.

How unfortunate for him and this man to be caught up in these sort of politics. A damn shame.

The detective continued his walk, listening and quiet as a mouse or what equated to it in a post war world...a mole rat maybe. Power armor was loud, not built for subtly. If this one he was looking for was custom painted, it would stand out even more.

However, he did not expect such an armor to be blaring out music when he rounded a corner down by the water front while lighting another cigarette. He stopped mid stride and looked at the scene out in front of him.

On a park bench between two abandoned buildings was a young man, barely 18, he suspected. Reddish brown hair in need of a cut, ratty sweatshirt with so much dirt that you can’t tell the color, jeans, worn shoes, and the traditional cloth wrapping around the sleeves and pant legs. He was drinking a nuka cola and jamming along next to the very set of T-51 power armor fitting the description the mayor gave him, currently being used as a speaker tuned into Diamond City radio.

He dropped his smoldering cigarette. What were the odds? Heck, if his luck was this good, forget the Commonwealth, he should be in New Vegas.

The kid was bobbing his head to Atom Bomb Baby, taking a swig of his cola when he turned a little to much and caught sight of Nick. The young man’s eyes went wide and he let go of the bottle.

The kid then bolted. Ran down the way and around a corner.

“Wait! Kid!”

The detective ran after him, barely missing tripping over a discarded mini-gun lying next to the armor.

 

“St-Stay away from me!” The kid shouted back as he ran down the dilapidated alley, barely managing to turn a corner.

“Kid!”

Nick followed and soon managed to corner the very terrified young man. His back was to a rusting fence and no exit but past the detective.

He’s seen people scared of him before, suspicious, angry, even a couple might pity him. However it was like he was a deer in headlights. The kid had his arms close to his chest, shaking like a leaf.

“No...nonono...I don’t...I don’t want to go back. Please...” He practically sobbed, eyes screwed up tight.

Nick held his hands up in surrender.

“Easy kid, not going to hurt ya. Just got a few questions. I’m not with the Institute. You have nothing to fear from me.”

The young man’s mouth went hard and he stole a look at the detective.

“But...no...you’re a....”

“A synth, kid? Trust me, I’m a lot smarter than those bucket of bolts.”

Nick smirked.

“My name’s Nick Valentine. I want to know about that power armor you were sitting next to. I’ve been tasked with finding it by my employer.”

“I didn’t steal it!” The young man snapped quickly.

“I was just...watching it while the guy who owned it was...well taking a piss.”

“Didn’t think you did kid, though I’d be mighty impressed if you managed. What’s your name?”

The young man worried his lip and looked down, contemplating. He glanced up, not quite shaking as badly. Nick put his hands in his trench coat pockets.

“Connor. Connor Hawkings.”

“Connor huh...last name rings a bell in the old servos but can’t quite recall where I heard it before. Anyway, who’s the guy that owns the armor? Was told he killed some Diamond City Security.”

Connor looked at him in shock before rapidly shaking his head.

“We’re not allowed anywhere near Diamond City, Mr. Valentine. Why would we want to hurt security?”

“And who’s we?” 

The kid worried his lip once more.

“P-Paradox and me. We’re...friends.”

“I see...”

Nick then lit a cigarette and began to smoke.

“And why are you not allowed near the city?”

“Um....not supposed to tell anyone.”

Nick sighed and blew smoke out the side of his mouth.

“Kid, how about we go get this...Paradox and I talk to him. Does it look like I want to take on a man in power armor?”

Connor now looked at him and a slight smirk twitched on his face.

“Exactly.” The detective responded.

“...Okay...I’ll...I’ll get him. I promise you won’t get shot Mr. Valentine...Can I...”

“‘Course.”

The synth side stepped and let the kid trot by him. If he didn’t want others to know, wasn’t his business unless he wanted to make it that way. He slowly followed and soon enough he heard the signature sound of someone entering the armor and the radio shutting off. The rocking steps of the brown, green, and black vertical striped armor then sounded it and the pilot stepped into the alley as Nick leaned against a crumbling brick wall. The mini gun from before was being carried loosely in one hand as the pilot stared down at the detective.

“You Paradox?” 

A voice came over the speaker, sounding much deeper and older making Nick almost doubt his theory.

“Who’s asking Synth? Connor said you aren’t Institute but haven’t met a gen 2 that can talk or lean. They usually want to shoot and not ask questions.”

Nick chuckled.

“Nick Valentine. The mayor of Diamond City says you killed city security. That true?”

Paradox snorted.

“Hell no. Not unless they shoot me first. Haven’t been in a decent firefight in days. Why this mayor looking for me? Never even been in Diamond City.”

“Hell if I know. Out of towner?”

“West coast.”

“Ex-Brotherhood?”

“Who?”

Nick raised a non existent eyebrow.

“Listen, if you just follow me to city, you can explain to the mayor, and I’ll get paid.

“Yeah, how about no.”

The detective tossed his cigarette. He figured.

“Why do you even-ugh never mind. Listen I know the reputation of the big green jewel and I- We are not walking into that place no matter what, Mr. Valentine. This mayor can take a flying leap off the scoreboard for all I care.” Paradox replied.

“I got a to do list longer than both of our arms and not a lot of daylight to get it done. He wants to accuse me of murder, well he’s going to have to say it to my face. In fact-“

There was click from inside the suit.

“I just happened to have recorded those very words. Suit ain’t no Pipboy, but it has decent and basic recording software. You just have to do some gymnastics to get the damn tapes out.”

Nick looked at Paradox, impressed.

“You got balls, kid.”

“Eh. Hardly say that. If I did, we’d be having a conversation outside the armor...don’t take that the wrong way please.”

The detective chuckled.

“This is business. Pleasure is for my off hours.”

The slightly confused and short laugh made him smile.

“Ah, here.”

The power reached behind his back and handed Nick a holotape. Strange though. It looked homemade. The usual orange and white plastic was replaced with a rather ugly brown and black.

“You make this?”

“Hm? Oh Con did. Does all the maintenance. Gave him a heart attack seeing you so he tore back to home base soon as he told me what happened. Nothing personal, him and those who look like you minus the noir detective look...”

“No offense taken. Must’ve been through some shit to be that skittish.”

“You have no idea...”

There was silence...a very awkward kind. Paradox gazed sideways and smacked his lips.

“Well then! Like I said, things to do! But uh...one more thing...Kinda dumb but...I heard there was a woman named Piper in Diamond City...If I give you a spare fusion core, can you pass along a message for me? I just...need to be sure.”

“Piper? The reporter? Well sure kid. Won’t say no to the caps.”

“Can you ask her if she remembers...if she remembers April 14th, 2075. If she says yes tell her I remember too and...I’m alive. If she’s confused...wrong woman and I’ll keep looking.”

Nick gained a knowing smirk.

“Unrequited love?”

“Not exactly...we got separated. Not by choice. She’s a good friend. My best friend, really...I owe a lot of my sanity to her. Maybe one day when things are better, Mr. Valentine, I’ll ask for you to help me look for her.”

They made their transaction and went their separate ways. 

 

“Uh, Nick, do you have a transistor loose? I wasn’t even alive.” The journalist asked as the detective relayed the mysterious message.

“Well, when a man in power armor is asking you to do something, you don’t argue.”

Piper shrugged and fished out a cigarette.

“If you don’t recognize it, he said you’re the wrong woman and he’ll keep looking.”

The journalist pouted.

“Aww, and I wanted a prince. The bragging rights alone would’ve been worth it.”

The detective smirked and decided to give a bit of an in depth report of his “case”. The journalist’s grin became wider with every word and soon enough, she was rushing to her typewriter.

Even past Nick knew that between politicians and press, always pick press. After all wasn’t it an old saying that the pen was mightier than the sword?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, if anyone recognizes Connor and Piper, they’re the same two from our Big Hero 6 fics. Same characters, different universe.
> 
> We’re also working on a FFXV fic.
> 
> As for our How To Train Your Dragon fic, we’re sorry for the huge lack if updates and hope to finish it soon. We got too many ideas for other fics.
> 
> Also, the title of the story is from the song “Atom Bomb Baby” by The Five Stars, which can be heard in Fallout 4.


	2. In the shop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What can I say except enjoy

The sun soon set as Paradox wandered the wastes, coming upon an once abandoned Slocum’s Joe. He didn’t mind them before the war. Decent place to get coffee on a early monday morning before school, though he never used this particular location much, except for the occasional quick breakfast because the college location was always swarming.

Probably for the best.

The location now looked like someone’s very fortified home, his home to be specific. Turrets in every direction, couple of searchlights at the door way, and grating where once glass was. In front was a display for power armor and in was a clean, or clean as he could get it, raider armor. At its feet was a sign he put there for those who could read.

Non functioning

Display only

He yawned inside his suit and went through the door and into what he considered his scrap and armor shop, chaining the door behind him. He was way too exhausted to deal with any traveling merchants or wasters right now. Paradox trudged to behind the counter, dropping off his mini gun on its usual space along the way. Next to his work table were publicly he was trying to rebuild an old Giddy Up Buttercup, he backed up against his armor workstation and exited the armor.

Connor stretched and ejected the fusion core from his armor. He can’t believe that detective bought it! Him being two people! Maybe he was getting his edge back after all. 

Playfully he patted the armor.

“Well, night Paradox.” He joked.

The armor, of course, did not reply.

The young man then trotted down the stairs to the former kitchen which he converted into storage for his inventory. He reached behind the stiff prewar bookshelf which held mostly burned and ruined books to reveal an elevator.

An elevator to his home and safehouse, The Switchboard. Once Railroad’s Headquarters before it was attacked and over taken by synths. A few of its members, including himself decked out in his armor for the first time, cleared it out quickly and efficiently, though they couldn’t use it to transport anyone anymore. It became his, sort of a gift from Desdemona. After all he couldn’t spend the rest of his life hiding under Old North Church. Deacon convinced them all of that much. Even himself, a miracle at the time.

He remembered the day the bombs dropped, the day the America he knew ended. Him and Piper, they had knew each other since they were sixteen, met in New York, thanks to her stealing his wallet. They had become fast friends and Connor took care of her. She was homeless, a war orphan who was kicked out due to the matron’s claims that she was old enough to fend for herself. Though the real reason for her getting kicked out was probably because of her appearance, mostly because of her black hair. He remembers them walking to class in CIT and hearing the whispers from students and even some of the faculty.

“Why is this rich kid walk around with the half commie? Does he have any dignity?”

“Poor boy, probably pities her.”

“I heard from my cousin that back in San Francisco, a bunch of people attacked his home and they hung his parents right off their balcony. I heard they were communists but the police wouldn’t do anything about it.”

“Well you know what they say, like father like son.”

Piper was actually black Irish, spanish blood from the Green Isle and second generation immigrant. Not that anyone cared.

“Let’em talk, Daisy. Nothing is ever going to happen to you or us.”

She would always giggle and hip bump him.

“Duh, I know that. But it would make me feel a lot better if we maybe...got some ice cream on the way home.”

He would roll his eyes.

“It’s always doughnuts and ice cream with you. How do you manage to keep your figure is beyond me.”

She’d grin.

“My little secret, Shark. Now come on, I’m going to be late for my advanced programing class.”

That smile would be burned into his brain for the rest of his life, because it had told him that she would find him. That they couldn’t be separated for long.

He saw that smile before they put him under. Before they kidnapped him dazed and confused from his cryosleep pod.

Before they played with his DNA and then put him on display like some statue for their lesser beings to worship!

 

Connor shook his head, not wanting to even think about it. From behind a coat he had hanging, he punched in the code. He was one of the few who knew it, the others being Dr. Carrington, Deacon, Desdemona, and Glory. He changed it every month and soon he might need to do it again. He was getting a little too used this one.

The elevator opened and he stepped inside, pulling the bookcase closed behind him and headed down.

 

It had taken him little under a year to get the place how he wanted. He wasn’t picky, he just...well if he was going to be self sustaining, he should at least do it right or risk going crazy.

Luckily he wasn’t alone down here.

“Curie! Curie, I’m back!” Connor shouted as he made it to the main room of the old security base. Deacon had decided to decorate it one day after gaining the knowledge that the “health nut” Connor’s guilty pleasure was Nuka Cola. Now it was covered in Nuka Cola posters, cola rugs, cola furniture, cola gradient curtains, and even managed to find an intact Nuka Cola display fridge from back in the day.

He had to litterally put a gun to the older man’s head when he started talking about a place to get nuka cola diner tile to get him to stop. Glory was already laughing at him as it was.

“Over here, my young associate.” A french feminine voice called from the tunnel.

“I have found something truly marvelous.”

The young man sighed and rolled his eyes.

“I swear to the pantheon if it’s another radroach.” He muttered under his breath.

He grabbed his nearby 10 mm pistol, the second most basic weapon in the ‘Wealth next to pipe pistols and rifles. He double checked the clip and headed down. Last time she found something marvelous, he nearly lost a couple of fingers.

The source of the voice was in fact a Ms. Nanny robot, a unique one that had in fact been made for Vault 81. The circumstances of their meeting were...complicated. Let’s just say it involved Vault Tec, plague molerats, and a sick kid.

Another vault, another bust.

 

He trotted through the tunnel, formally the entrance they used when they cleared the place. The others in the Railroad wanted to cave it in, being it’s also the way if the Institute decided to invade. Connor merely upped the security with a few more tricks just in case. After all, no more emergency services to dig people out of holes.

Everything beyond the entrance and security, Connor converted into a hydroponics lab....if you want to call a container garden with growth lights a lab. It was its usual mess of soil and brahmin crap when he came around the bend to see Curie floating there next to a mole rat. He stopped dead and the robot turned.

“Look at this, my young associate. Is she not fascinating?”

Connor chewed his lip.

“Well...you want my technical opinion or-“

His question was quickly cut off.

“Look how docile this animal is? Usually mole rats are so hostile, defending their territory. I have been taking excessive notes on it’s behavior. Perhaps it is a sign that they can be domesticated.”

That’s what she said last time as Connor inched closer and looked.

“...Uh hate to burst your preverbal bubble...but I think it’s asleep or...dead.”

“Oh nonono. It is alive.” Curie prattled on enthusiastically.

“I was studying our hybridization of Mutfruit, when thiz animal burrowed in. According to my studies, he should’ve attacked me and become violent. Yet he did not. So I tried an experiment.”

Connor tried not to look incredibly exhausted or bored as she rattled off in excessive detail of how she gave the mutant animal a carrot and how it went down for a nap.

And he thought he was long winded.

“Listen, how about next time I go out scavenging, you come with and you can observe and study to your...core’s content?”

“Indeed? That would be most pleasing and advantageous, but tell me, did you find Mademoiselle Piper?”

And there’s the usual question....along with his usual answer,

“No...not yet. Been tracking that there might be a woman in Diamond City named Piper...but nothing if it’s actually her. Speaking of Diamond City, I should get Deacon or someone else on Ham before bed. I met...well I met this weird synth-“

“Zut alors! Are you injured?” Curie asked.

“No....had a few years taken off my life though. But what’s a few years when you’re 200 past your expiration date?”

He tried and failed to chuckle at his own joke. He put his head in his hands.

“Can I just hide in my armor and never get out of it? I’m such a coward without it.”

Curie gave him what he suspected was a loving look.

“You know that it izn’t that eazy. You are not a coward. You have been traumatically changed from who you were 200 years ago. It iz alright though, PTSD is nothing to be ashamed of.”

“Tell that to my ego.”

He sighed.

“But thanks, Curie. I would go crazy without someone down here with me. Might’ve thrown in the towel a long time ago without you and the Railroad. Heck, probably would still be some frozen idol in the Institute’s base if it wasn’t for them.”

“Of courze. Now make sure you eat. The woman, Glory, haz brought for rations. I believe she called it...radstag. I have screened it and removed the remaining piezes of lead from the meat.”

“Probably got bored and went to town on a poor herd. Ah well, been meaning to make stew anyway. You uh...let me know when our..guest does something it probably shouldn’t, like try to kill me in my sleep, okay?”

Good thing robots don’t get sarcasm. She would’ve probably left a long time ago.

Soon enough, Connor had made himself a pot of stew and currently chilling in his room. He actually had a choice on what it looked like, the location was not.

What was once a heavy safe lock up complete with iron door became a memory of the past. His past. Desdemona ordered him to use this for sleep because just in case the Institute were to ever attack this safe house, he would be able to seal himself in the room and wait for back up to arrive.

Sure she had a point, didn’t mean he liked it though. He still had a little teenage rebellion in him after all. Even if he was growing out of it.

The room was a little cramped, but Connor managed to squeeze in a decent bed, a desk, a terminal that Tinker Tom built, and a ham radio. An old movie poster and CIT pennant hung on the walls along with the last Boston Bugle ever published, the one he was reading the morning the bombs dropped.

Connor twiddled with his radio dial and ate his dinner, not really tasting it, though it could probably use a little salt. He got to the right frequency and spoke into the microphone,

“Sorry to tell you but your geiger counter is busted. You might as well get a new one.”

He waited and ate. Then the response came from a familiar voice.

“Damn shame, but I know a shop. How was scrounging today, my favorite wasteland brother?” Deacon asked. Connor would practically hear his smirk.

“Found the usual. Though I met someone that I think I should’ve been warned about. Lost a few years off my life.”

“Get spooked by a few raiders? Aww don’t worry, everyone pisses themselves the first time seeing one too.”

“Ha ha. No it wasn’t. Met some kind of synth by the name of Nick Valentine.”

It was quiet.

“No I did not shoot when I first saw him, but he did make me panic.”

“Oh good. Nick’s a good guy. A prototype with some pre war guy’s memories.”

There was a pause.

“Wait, you didn’t go to Diamond City, did you?”

“Nope.”

The teen then explained what happened earlier that day with the synth detective.

“Why the heck were you out of your armor in the first place? We had a deal.”

Connor sighed and played with his meager dinner.

“I know...I just...was thinking of the good times. Before the war, ya know. The nostalgia just kinda took over. Took... took Daisy on a picnic there once. We spent the entire day just riding the rails and playing tourist. Went to Fallon’s to look at stuff we might need in the future, didn’t tell her but when she went to the bathroom I dropped by jewelry to get her something nice... I wanted to ask her if we wanted to be something more that day... might seem silly to you guys but, this idea of waiting for the perfect moment and candle lit dinners under the stars. The world before wasn’t perfect...but there was still some pockets of happiness back in the day....It just...”

The young man sighed and set his meal down, no longer feeling hungry.

“I get it, Paradox. It was one of those days. Love to tell you it’ll be better someday but...even I can’t make that kind of lie sound good. You’ve been used by people, been experimented on, and woke up surrounded by complete strangers. It ain’t easy being hunted either so you just gotta...take it one day at a time...Heck maybe one of these days you can head over to Goodneighbor, take a cruise in a memory lounger. Irma’s particular of her clients but hey, safer zoning out with Amari nearby than in the middle of nowhere. I’ll see if I can schedule a...spa day.”

Connor tries not to snort at the agent’s playful tone. Sure the guy was a liar, a spy, semi master of disguise, and could spin a story better than any news anchor. But Deacon cared about him, made him into a little brother and taught him to shoot.

The Railroad was just a group when he woke up, with Deacon, it became a family.

“I’ll think about it. Also might’ve told the mayor to take a flying leap off the scoreboard..in a holotape. So uh... I might hide in my hole for a few days. Might not help if Dez wants to kill me for breaking cover, but he accused me of murder, how was I supposed to respond?”

Deacon laughed.

“Long as I get to read in the paper that he threw his terminal out a window, it’ll be our little secret.”

Connor couldn’t hold back this time and let out a full pig snort.

“How on earth do you manage to make me laugh when I’ve probably had the worse day yet? I’m calling black magic!”

“Eh, maybe I’m secretly one of those who escaped the witch trials and come to haunt the Commonwealth with my bad comedy. You know more prewar history than I do, so your call.”

“Oh my gods, Deacon. One of these days your mouth is going to get you shot.”

“If I had a bottle cap for every time someone said that to me, I would have my own airship. Now I gotta report in. You get some sleep, ya hear?”

Connor dramatically sighed.

“I’m 18, it’s the post apocalypse, and I still have a bed time. Yay me. Night. Dare you to tell Carrington to loosen up.”

“I’d rather take on a courser with a switch blade, kiddo.”

The teen shut off his radio. Well at least he’s in a better mood. Still not hungry but he’ll probably be able to sleep. Always told not to go to bed upset, though not sure why. He remember asking why when he was little and his dad had a coughing fit, though later he learned he always did that when his mind went into the gutter.

Wonder how’d they fix the world if they saw it now?

The teen sighed and finished his meal before going and trying to get at least a cold shower from his shoddy pipes. Engineering classes didn’t exactly prepare him for doing his own plumbing. He knew she should’ve taking home economics back in high school, no had to be AP chemistry.

Maybe if that public library he past a couple of weeks ago still had some books on the subject. Long shot but it wouldn’t hurt.

Best make a list.


End file.
